The Life Story of Tobias Cavanaugh
by ThatBlazingLook
Summary: A descriptive story telling of the life of our beloved Toby Cavanaugh. From birth to where we are now. I've used all the information we've been given throughout the series and woven it together to form his seamless life story. Prepare for some feels. Multi-chaptered. Spoby in later chapters.
1. Part I

**This began a simple rant I had an itching to write on tumblr and legitimately took on a life of it's own. What was suppose to take up a paragraph is now 1000 words and the first part of this fanfic. Enjoy the feels. I know I did. :'(**

* * *

Here's a little story about a boy by the name of Tobias Cavanaugh. Born the only child of Marion and Daniel Cavanaugh, Tobias had a normal childhood. Loner by nature he didn't make as many friends as most in school, he'd spend much of his time building makeshift crafts in his garage. But that's how he liked it. He like to build things, to collect his little model cars, to read. He kept his grades up, he loved his family, and he was happy.

It wasn't until he was about 14 that things started to change. His mothers behavior shifted. It began with little mishaps, she'd forget to pick Toby up from school or she'd put bologna in his peanut butter sandwiches, mistakes every mother has made. But it progressed. She'd call in sick days in a row to work. Headaches she claimed. But soon she stopped calling in all together and spent much of her time in the closed quarters of her bedroom.

When Toby's father came home he'd slip in through the door where he's either yell at his wife's selfish behavior or exit with a pained expression. Toby'd beg her to go see a doctor the rare times a day she'd step out of her cave. But she'd simply put on a fake smile, pat his cheeks softly, and reassure him that she was fine before retreating back behind the closed door for hours.

Toby's heart rang a false sense of hope when she began coming out of her bedroom more often. But what he was seeing was not the mother who use to take him to the park or read him bedtime stories. She'd roam the house in a daze, unsure or the time or day or maybe even year. She hardly ever got dressed anymore. She'd simply shuffle around in a robe and slippers, day and night.

All of this deeply concerned Toby. He'd pleaded with his father to take her somewhere, anywhere, so she could be her old self again. But every time her brought it up, his father waved him off, telling to go do his homework. His face might have been expressionless but the pain in his fathers eyes was palpable.

Weeks later nothing changed, Toby and his father had to learn to fend for themselves. Toby took over on my of the things his mom use to do. He'd wash the dishes after dinner, he'd vacuum and dust; he'd help his father make dinner. Maybe if he did that all, she'd come out of her recluse behavior and praise him. Maybe she had just been upset or felt like Toby was taking advantage of her. But as weeks went on and she never made a peep about any of it, Toby's reasoning changed. Maybe, if it simply got done, he could pretend she was the one doing it.

One night, she did come out for dinner. Toby was immensely pleased he'd gotten her to come out for a long enough time for them to have a family dinner. But things quickly turned sour. Nothing ever stays good for long, as they say.

It could have been nothing really. But it didn't feel that way.

She asked Toby to pass the mashed potatoes. She called him Tommy. And she didn't correct her mistake.

Toby heard his father on the phone in a hushed tone later that night.

And while his father took his mother all over the tristate area from doctor to doctor. Toby was getting picked on by a girl he once thought of as a friend. Maybe even more.

She'd call him a perv every time he passed, she'd whisper and giggle with her posey of friends every time she looked in his direction. He ha no idea why. No idea what he'd done or said that would warrant that type of behavior.

But he suddenly went from being the boy most didn't know existed to the boy everyone avoided.

She had that kind of power.

He never minded going to school before. Take a few notes, read a few books, eat lunch and slip out without getting noticed. But those days were over. He's end up just trying to survive the day with all it's glances and whispers to spend the remainder of it sitting in his living room with his mother who was now so hopped up on medication she just stare through endless hours of The Game Show Network.

It was only a short while later that he had to watch his father pack up some of his mothers things, load them into the car and head off in the direction of Radley Sanitarium.

His father came home around dinner time. He said nothing. Toby asked nothing. And they ate their TV dinners in silence.

It took him a few days before he'd finally racked up the courage to go and see her. He remembered following his father through the rusted, intricate metal gates and hearing screaming seep through the grout of the brick building.

He remember'd having to go through security to see his own mother. He remember's seeing her draped in a white gown surrounded by people with bleached scrubs and clipboards. He remembers feeling sick at the white wash and wanting nothing more than to run in the opposite direction.

But then he heard it. The simple tone of piano keys. They played a soft melody that was soothing in Toby's ears. He'd heard it more times than he could possibly count. I use to be the only thing able to lull him to sleep on restless, sleepless nights.

He'd go back to visit his mother everyday after school from that point on. He came so often so that he was on a first name basis with some of the staff. And when his mother was being unresponsive or had to shipped of to some appointment, he'd spend the remainder of the visit playing board games with one of his mothers nurse's, Eddie.

This went on for months. Toby would put himself on the local fare after dismissal from school and ride it all the way to the front gates of Radley Sanitarium. He had plans to do just that, maybe play a game of scrabble with his mother or listen to her play the piano. But as he daydreamed in his school mandated metal desk, a wrinkled, stout kind faced women walked into his algebra class. She whispered something in his teacher's ear. Her eyes widened to the size of bowling balls. The women called Toby's name. His classmates all turned towards him. He was surprised they even knew his name. The women asked him to accompany her into the hallway. He gathered his things as quickly as he could with the fifty eyes he felt trained on him. His heart beat as he thought of anything he could have done that would get him into trouble.

The women closed the classroom door gently behind her. Toby asked what was going on. She looked at him. Her eyes were sad. "Your father would like to talk to you."

He doesn't remember much of the funeral. He remembers someone coming up to him and telling him his mother was a coward. He remember's his fathers firm hands on his shoulders and wrapping a paper towel over his bleeding knuckles.

* * *

**I didn't know you could get emotional over your own writing but I did. Why does Toby Cavanaugh have to have such a crappy life. Why Marlene King? _Whyyyy?_**

** I guess it's better than the alternative of killing him off first season like they were suppose to.**

** Wow. The highlight of Toby Cavanaugh's life. ****_Well, ya could be dead..._**

**Part 2 coming soon. :)**


	2. Part II: The Marshalls

It felt like only a day had past when his father brought home some new women for him to meet. He'd greeted her with cold contempt as she intertwined her fingers with his fathers. The same way his mother had.

But his poisonous eyes did nothing to deter her. She'd continue to spend an increasing amount of time with his father. And every time he saw her she'd continue in her attempts to win him over. Smiling at him, buying him model cars to add to his collection, asking for his preference in nightly television programing.

His brutal exterior warmed at her efforts. And at how his dad was smiling like he hadn't for months.

Not soon after was he introduced to her daughter. Jenna. She was a brunette with a pretty face and was only a year younger than himself.

He's greeted her with caution. She greeted him with lust.

He soon learned a lot about her as the four began to set out on outings together in picture perfect family fashion. Jenna's bratty quality quickly shined through. He learned that her mothers weak will was not reserved for swaying her boyfriends apprehensive son. If Jenna wanted to do somewhere, they did it, if she wanted something, she'd get it. Or, if she was refused, she'd whine until she did.

She hardly ever had anything but a snide drip in her voice or a sour puss on her face.

But Toby dealt with it. Every time he wanted to snipe something back at the pompous princess, he just thought of his father, and the look on his face whenever her mother came into the room. He hadn't seen that look since before his mother got sick. He simply accepted that a hidden eye roll would have to suffice.

And it would have, if bratty was the only thing she was.

Every time their parents had their attention distracted elsewhere, Jenna couldn't get her hands on him fast enough. She'd lean too close, speak too sensually and touch far too much. He had no memory of inviting these advances.

Things only got worse when his father announced his engagement. And the duo moved in.

Toby was simultaneously forced to move out of the room he'd called his own since he was but an infant. The one his mother had painted and re-painted with a ferocious toddler Toby who did nothing but splash paint onto the walls.

It still housed his growth marks on the door frame.

Somehow though, he didn't mind it. He liked being separated from the mess of a family he was suppose to be a part of. He spent much of his free time now, secluded in his new bedroom fixing and renovating it as much as a 15 year old with hardly any resources could. But when he was in there, installing built-ins to the closet he'd finished or reading on the new chair he'd made, with nothing but the breeze coming through the window to keep him company, he felt a glint of happiness.

He'd almost forgotten what that felt like.

But eventually he'd have to bring himself out of his daze and back into reality. Where his mom was dead, his dad had moved on and his step-sister wouldn't leave him alone.

She progressed. Jenna. From the simple inappropriate actions. From thigh squeezes under the dinner table and sexual innuendos before heading off to bed. No. Her movements now were far more invasive. He'd fend her off. Try to avoid ever being alone with her. But with two working parents, it seemed to happen much too often. He could only hide at the library for so long.

He'd try to reason with her. Tell her he didn't feel the same way she did about him. Tell her she was his sister. It was wrong. But she trudged on. More and more. And somehow Toby became powerless to stop her.

_How? Why didn't he just tell someone?_ Who could he really tell? His friends? He didn't have any close enough that he'd ever want to admit that to. His parents? He'd tried that once. But he only got halfway through his statement when Jenna burst into a fit of sobbing.

She turned the tables on him. She made his story her own.

His step mother cradled her bawling daughter. His father looked at him with a mix of confusion and disbelief. Like he didn't completely believe her. He still went to his step-daughters aid before even asking if her accusations were correct.

He lost all his resolve to finish his story. Who would believe that sweet innocent Jenna took advantage of the gangly Toby Cavanaugh anyway? Certainly no one after that display.

Once again, Toby tried to use his work to distract himself from his personal anguish. Working on the motorcycle his father had gotten him as a sort of sympathy gift after the wedding. Designing things with a pencil and a straight-edge. Building things he didn't need. Anything that put his focus on something inanimate.

But as he sat, designing some house that would never be built, for once, he wished for nothing more than to have someone by his side.

But as thought the devil answered his prayers, he heard a door squeak open behind him. "Thought you'd want some company" she said.

And all of the sudden, he really didn't.

He told her to leave him alone. That he had work to get done.

"You can build your little bird houses some other time" she spat.

He knew exactly what was going to happen. Again. And it probably would have had fate not stepped in.

Though he wouldn't exactly call it a blessing in disguise.

It all happened in an instant. Jenna was mid-step on her journey towards him. Her foot in the air. When the click of something across the cement floor stopped her. Then, the swift slam of the door.

There was barely any time to determine what it was that was making that hissing noise. The occupants of the garage were suddenly frozen. Even Jenna in her direct objective.

Toby spotted something sparking on his rug near the window.

And then Toby was thrown backwards.

His back his unfinished walling and all the air in his lungs was lost.

What a time too. When the amount of fresh breathing air had just become increasingly rare.

He managed to pull himself up, swatting away dark smoke from his face in the process.

He scanned the room. The entire room was filler with darkness. The only source being the large patch of fire covering the majority of the back of his bedroom. The doorway. His newly built closet and a heap of of collectable cars.

He took a step forward as he coughed out his lungs contents. But his foot landed partially on an unfamiliar heap on the ground.

Jenna.

He bent down for a closer look.

She wasn't moving.

He didn't think twice. How ever much he would have been fully content if he never touched her again. How ever much he detested her and all she'd done to him, he wasn't going to leave her here. Maybe she was in shock, maybe knocked out. Or maybe she was already dead. He just knew he couldn't be the reason she burned in the flames.

He hoisted her up into his arms and rushed out the flaming doorway.

And as he ran though the dark smoke filled with ash, the dead weight of the body in his arms slowing him down, he saw a humanoid shadow through the smog.

Multiple.

The images became clearer as he moved down his driveway.

Five young girls running from the scene of a crime.

It didn't take long to distinguish who it was.

Alison. Her and her little clan. The girl he'd once had a pre-mature crush on. She had done this. She'd thrown something into the garage that had exploded. She was the reason Toby was wheezing for air and he wasn't sure if his step-sister was even getting any.

Alison turned back without thinking. Her eyes meet those of her soot covered neighbor.

The look of a deer caught in headlights flashed momentarily before her before sprinting off to join her friends.

He'd meant to call 911. But he wasn't thinking straight. Thankfully, when there are flames coming from your house, your neighbors often do that for you.

Toby still stood holding Jenna's lifeless body when the Rosewood police, firemen and EMT's arrived minutes later. He stood frozen but still willingly released the girl from his arms when they brought a stretcher around. He thinks they were asking him questions, but the ringing in his ear made it impossible to hear a peep.

"Is there anyone else in there?" he was finally able to make out.

He shook his head wordlessly.

After that, the firemen left him to assist in extinguishing the fire.

An EMT swiftly made her way towards him. His hearing started to return as she asked her round of questions.

"Are you injured?"

He thinks he remembers shaking his head.

"What's you relationship tot he victim?"

Victim? Did that mean…?

"My step-sister" he was somehow able to crock.

The women pat him on the arm before departing in a hasty fashion.

Toby was alone. Standing in the dark behind a big red fire truck.

The solitude was short lived as the clicking of footsteps against cement approached him.

"What did you see?" Alison demanded.

Anger suddenly filled Toby's senses, "Enough."

"Well you better forget what you saw. Or else."

His clouded mind was not able to pick up on her hints.

Thankfully, she elaborated.

Unfortunately, it was the last thing he wanted to hear.

"Tell them and I'll make sure everybody knows."

So he stayed quiet. He said nothing. Not when the police started asking questions. Not when his parents got home from dinner and his step-mother went into frantic hysteria at the sight of her daughter. Not when the metal rings were tightened around his wrists. Not when his father looked at him like he didn't know who he was as he got pushed into the back of a police squad car. Not when they asked him questions in front of the mirror he knew they could see through on the other side.

He didn't say anything until some half-cock attorney arrived. And not because he didn't want his rights violated. No. He wanted this on record. He only wanted to say this once.

"I did it."

Of course he couldn't just say it once. People don't seem to be satisfied with outright confessions of arson.

**"Why did you do it?"**

_"I felt like my dad brought my step-mom and step-sister into our lives to replace my mom."_

**"Then why just Jenna?"**

_"I was jealous. She got all the attention and I got shipped off to the garage."_

He was surprised at how good he was at lying. Maybe the ringing of Alison's threat in his ears was making her skills at it seep into his subconscious.

**"Then why pull her her out?"**

_"It wasn't suppose to get that out of hand. No one was suppose to get hurt."_

He didn't find out until later about what had happened to Jenna. And by then it was too late to go back on his story.

He went to trial. Only his dad showed. He was convicted of 1st degree arson and battery with general intent. Six months in a Juvenile Detention Facility.

* * *

**Part III en route (Though the next chapter of my other fanfic will most likely be up before)**

** If you can find my favorite line you'll get… my undying love and affection :)**


End file.
